As Certain Dark Things
by too many stars to count
Summary: Now, when it really counts, words, her true strength, are escaping her. She lives for words for cripe's sake! She has 30-odd notebooks at home that are filled with words. H/A - Rating for language and consensual sexual activity between 17-year-olds.


**A/N:** This is my first venture into _Hey Arnold _and I loved it! I've been reading for a while now and it's nice to sink my teeth into a new fandom writing-wise. As always I'd love it if you could take a moment to review, but regardless, enjoy! Oh, and the title of the story is from Pablo Neruda's Sonnet XVII which I highly recommend you read because it's amazing.

As Certain Dark Things

Loving him is hard.

It hurts. The fire in her chest when she sees him, the way her heart clenches every time he talks. The self-loathing that bubbles up when insults spill out of her mouth before she can stop herself.

For over 13 years (13 years, two months, and five days – she's made herself stop reciting it to the hour) she has loved him. Sometimes, on very bad nights, huddle in her closet for comfort even though the bubblegum shrine is long gone, she wishes she could hate him. Because he is kind, and he is gentle, and she knows she can never be deserving of him. She also knows that she would rather love him from afar for the rest of her life than hate him for a single moment,

Loving him, secretly, constantly, unyieldingly, has become a part of her daily life. She contemplates declaring her love for him as she showers (something small and romantic for his eyes only and then she'd tell anyone she could find); ruminates about his beauty to pass the walk to school (his hair is as beautiful as wheat in the autumn sun); and writes poetry when she's meant to be taking history notes (My love for him wells up like the sea/Refusing to be stopped by the break wall/It washes away all others leaving only me/So finally we feel we can share all). It is a comforting constant, one of the only ones she has apart from Phoebe.

But it is hard.

o0o

When they are in 9th grade Arnold begins to date a new girl named Shelly. It is only Phoebe's steadfast refusal to help that keeps her from threatening Shelly with the Five Avengers or worse.

Shelly is pretty, and kind, and against her will Helga can see why Arnold picked her. She can also see why they break up two months later.

Arnold doesn't _need _kind, he doesn't _need _gentle. He needs someone who will keep him grounded. He needs someone who will have the kindness in her heart that life calls for without letting it wash away the realism. He needs Helga and she doesn't understand why no one else understands that. Why _Arnold _doesn't understand that.

o0o

The summer before 10th grade she and Arnold become friends because Phoebe and Gerald have finally gotten over themselves and started dating. Somewhere along the way "football head" stops being an insult and begins to sound like a friendly nickname. Around that same time Arnold finally convinces Helga to tell him her middle name – it's Geraldine and she threatens him with Ol' Betsy _and_ the Five Avengers if he tells anyone – and Phoebe starts giving her coy looks every time the four of them go somewhere.

For the first time in her life Helga has someone aside from Phoebe to confide in. She doesn't for the most part – she loves Arnold but years of neglect has made telling anyone, anything hard – but it's an odd feeling to know that someone is there to listen. Nice, yes, but odd all the same.

o0o

By 11th grade Helga feels she has herself mostly under control. Arnold still makes her heart pound and she has an embarrassing amount of poetry about him hidden all over her room (and in her school notes) but she sees signs of progress. He calls a senior girl cute in passing one day and Helga doesn't need Phoebe to tell her it's not okay to hurt the other girl. She still sneers as they pass each other in the hallway, because really Arnold could do better, but it's something.

They hang out more often on their own now that Phoebe and Gerald have each other, and it's a painful taste of what Helga hopes could be if only she could admit her feelings. Lately they're friends have been inviting them along places. Helga doesn't understand it, but she's grateful for the excuses to see Arnold. She's made her own private rule in her head that she can ask him to hang out twice a week before she starts sounding creepy and thus is stuck the rest of the time hoping he makes a move or that their best friends decide to invite them along places.

"Gerald and I were planning on attending the Cheese Festival this weekend." Phoebe tells her one day after school as they sprawl across Helga's bed doing homework.

"Oh?" Helga would like to see some proof that she will ever need to know anything about chemical equations because this homework _blows_.

"Would you like to come?" Phoebe asks keeping her eyes on her math book. "I'm sure Arnold will be there and that way you wouldn't be bored by Gerald and myself." Helga raises her eyebrows, and while Phoebe looks up, they've been friends far too long for it to deter her. "I was thinking that you could sleep over afterward and then we could go shopping for homecoming dresses the next day."

"I'm not _going_ to homecoming, Pheebs. Doi."

"Then you can help me look." She has to hand it to her the girl is determined.

"Sure, whatever Pheebs. If it means that much to you."

"Wonderful, Helga!" She looks at the chemistry book between them. "If you'd like I can help you with your chemistry homework. I remember that chapter quite clearly."

"Fire away, Pheebs." Helga hopes the other girl is blind to the happiness she knows is showing on her face at an excuse to spend time with Arnold. They haven't been friends this long for nothing though. The gleam in Phoebe's eyes tells her she's busted but, always the true friend, she only grins and begins to explain chemistry to Helga.

o0o

It's amazing how over eight years later the Cheese Festival remains virtually unchanged. Phoebe and Gerald drag them to the Tunnel of Love and Helga crosses her fingers and hopes she doesn't end up with Brainy again. She thinks she sees a flash of cornflower blue peeking over the wall but it's probably just her imagination.

The line creeps forward and Phoebe explains that this is where she and Gerald first held hands and against her will Helga finds it cute. "Ugh, you're going to make me sick with all that sappy stuff, Pheebs, cut it out." She protests instead but she knows she's not fooling her best friend.

Helga ignores it and watches with a smirk as Harold and Rhonda are paired up. It's hard to say which of them is in a deeper state of horror. Eventually Harold holds his hand out to help Rhonda into the boat and they float away allowing another boat to approach the dock. She's just thinking that Nadine looked pretty relaxed for getting into a boat with the walking accident that is Eugene when someone taps her shoulder.

"Helga?" Suddenly she realizes that not only is she at the front of the line but so is Arnold. Helga catches a glimpse of Gerald giving them a thumbs-up before they turn a corner. "I think we're up."

"Well no kidding, football head." Arnold just gestures towards the boat with a smile and Helga gets in with one last grumble.

"This places looks exactly like it did when we were nine." Arnold says as they enter the tunnel.

"Obviously upgrading the decor came second to furniture made entirely out of cheese." Helga says dryly. Arnold laughs and Helga is complimenting herself on not acting like a total nut job when a man appears out of a hidden door in the wall and wades through the water towards them.

"Is something wrong?" Arnold asks politely but Helga notices he shifts in front of her as if he's trying to protect her. It's sweet but not only does Helga not need protection, she could kick this guy's ass. Unlike Arnold who would _get_ his ass kicked.

"Sorry kids. Hope I didn't scare you. I'm Jake, I run the ride. We have to stop all the boats for a minute. One of the boats up ahead ran into a wall and the kid who was in is is trapped between the wall and what's left of his boat. We'll get him out but it'll take us a few minutes."

Arnold asks what they're both wondering, "The kid who's trapped, does he have red hair?"

"Yep." They exchange a look. "Listen, I'm just gonna pull you two to the shore and then come back when everything's taken care of."

"Do you need any help?" Arnold asks

"Nah, we got it, but thanks." He pulls them easily to shore. "I'll be back for you as soon as everything gets sorted." And, with a nod of his head, he wanders off through the tunnel.

"There's no surprise," Helga says as Jake disappears from view.

"At least he's consistent." Arnold replies grinning.

"I can't believe Nadine actually got into a boat with him." Helga says shaking her head.

From farther up the tunnel a shout reaches them, "We can't take you ANYWHERE, Eugene! You alright, man?" The both recognize Gerald's voice and faintly hear the feeble "I'm fine!" They've all come to know with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

"Just imagine graduation." She says dryly and Arnold shakes his head in mock horror.

"Gerald said you and Phoebe were going shopping for homecoming dresses tomorrow." She looks over but Arnold is looking at the river and not her.

"Correction. Phoebe's going shopping. I'll just be there for moral support."

"You aren't going to the dance?" He sounds surprised for some reason.

"Nah," Helga shrugs. "Pheebs is going with Geraldo and I didn't feel like going with Rhonda's group – it'll only end in tears." Rhonda _had_ invited Helga to go with them but she's never felt very comfortable around the other girls without Phoebe.

"Why no just go by yourself?" He turns to look at her. "That's my plan."

"And look like a dweeb? No thanks football head. I'll take a night of slasher flicks and pork grinds." She slants a glance at him. "I thought Nadine asked you?" Actually, she _knows_ Nadine asked him. And that he said no. But, still.

"She did. But, I knew she really wanted to go with Stinky. It would have been a friend date anyways. I told her I had my eye on someone and told Stinky to go for it."

"Very devious, football head._ Lying_. I'm impressed. I've taught you well."

"Who said I was lying?" Arnold raises his eyebrows and Helga firmly tells her brain to _calm down_.

"Oh? So who's the lucky lady?" There. That sounds normal, and sane, and not like she hates this girl without even knowing who she is yet.

"It doesn't matter," Arnold tells her looking down. "She doesn't really like dances."

"Always worth a try." Helga says trying to be a good friend with a shrug that she hopes comes off as nonchalant.

"You think so?" Helga nods. "Huh." They sit in silence until a cheer from further up the tunnel reaches them. They exchange amused looks knowing that Eugene must have been freed from the wreckage of his boat.

"Hey, Helga," she looks over at him expecting a joke about Eugene. "Would you like to go to homecoming with me?" Her heart almost stops. Helga has been waiting for this day for over 13 years and it's better than anything she ever imagined.

"Yeah, sure Arnold. That'd be – fun." She's nodding her head a lot as if he can't understand her. Arnold grins and kisses her and the two most beautifully perfect seconds of her life are ruined as Jake comes back.

"Hey, hey, hey. I know this is called the Tunnel of Love but save it for your car or something will ya?"

Arnold blushes so badly she can see it in the dimly lit tunnel and asks "Is Eugene alright?"

Jake grins at his obvious discomfort but takes pity, "Yeah the kid's fine. Sprained his elbow pretty bad. They were gonna take him to the hospital but he already had a sling on him for some reason. The carnival is starting to shut down soon but you guys can finish the ride now."

They do and as they get our of the boat Arnold grabs her hand to steady her and doesn't let go. Phoebe and Gerald exchange looks and Helga's convinced they planned at least part of this. Wisely though they decide to talk about Eugene instead. Still, Helga knows what they'll be talking about as soon as they're away from the boys.

Looks like she'll need a dress after all.

o0o

"This is _ridiculous_!" Helga yells the next afternoon lost in a haze of pink tulle.

"Do you need assistance, Helga?"

"Yeah." She shoves at the seemingly unending pink tulle falling around her legs. "I need help shoving this crummy dress in the garbage. You can come in." Helga adds unlocking the door.

"Entering!" Phoebe stands gaping in the doorway for a moment, her own dress selections draped over her arm. "Did you pick this dress out, Helga?"

Helga stops glaring at the dress to glare at Phoebe. "Of course I didn't pick it. That sales lady did. She probably saw my hoodie and decided this monstrosity was the perfect dress for me." She glares at her pink hoodie lying on the dressing room floor.

"Well," Phoebe starts in what Helga recognizes as her planning voice. "Why don't you change back into your clothes, I'll try these on," she gestures to her pile of dresses, "And then we'll find you a dress. One that's not so pink. Or poofy." Phoebe says with a badly concealed grin.

"Sounds great, Pheebs. I just need to get this thing off of me first."

o0o

Phoebe finds her dress almost immediately. It's dark green, strapless, and fits perfectly. It looks as though it was made out of one very long piece of ribbon wrapped to form a dress. It's beautiful on her.

"You look amazing." Helga tells her honestly.

"Thank you, Helga! I think I'll wear my hair down." She muses staring at her shoulder length locks in the mirror. "Maybe with silver heels."

"You're gonna blow tall hair boy's mind, Pheebs." Helga assures her.

Phoebe blushes but looks pleased. "I think this is the dress. I'll just change and then we can find your dress."

o0o

In the end, it's Phoebe who finds the dress, but Helga who finds the color.

It's a beautiful strapless dress that reaches her knees in a fall of flowy fabric. But it's purple and she doesn't want a purple dress. Or a green one. Or a red one for that matter. And definitely not the pink one. She's about to give up and look for another dress when she finds it buried under a pile of other dresses. Her dress in the exact same color as Arnold's hat.

Phoebe's face breaks into a grin when Helga steps out of the changing room. "It matches the color of your eyes perfectly, Helga! Do you like this one?"

Helga looks at herself in the mirror again. "Yeah, Phoebe. I do."

o0o

"You are not wearing pigtails to homecoming, Helga." Phoebe says firmly. The summer between fifth and sixth grade, the same time shed started having two eyebrows instead of one, Helga had stopped wearing her high pigtails. Instead she wore them lower and looser in a style she liked and these days Helga only pulled her hair into a ponytail for impromptu baseball games.

"C'mon, Pheebs. I always wear my hair like this."

"Exactly. It's time for a change. At least for tonight."

Helga locks eyes with Phoebe and realizes there's no way she's winning this fight. "Fine," she sighs sliding the hairbands off and plopping into a chair. "Do your worse."

Phoebe's worse turns out not to be half bad. Helga's hair is loose and wavy and she actually kind of loves it. Phoebe's already dressed and ready so Helga pulls her own dress on and swipes a bit of mascara onto her lashes "Alright Pheebs, I'm all set." Some part of her still thinks this is a dream as she looks in the mirror one last time.

Phoebe looks at her cell phone before sliding it into her clutch. "The boys should be here in 10 minutes." She informs Helga cheerfully.

o0o

The boys are not there in 10 minutes. Or in 20. Or even 30. Finally, 45 minutes late, their dinner reservations gone to hell, Gerald pulls up in front of Helga's house. She's opening her mouth to yell at him when she realizes that Gerald is alone. Suddenly her dream feels like a nightmare.

Helga's on her way to full panic mode that she's been stood up as Gerald gets out of the car. "I'm sorry," he says immediately looking at her, "Arnold isn't coming, Helga."

"_What?_" It's all she can manage.

"He's at the hospital. His grandfather fell. I would have been here sooner but I had to take Arnold to the hospital. They'd only let one person ride in the ambulance and grandma wouldn't leave his side."

"Is he okay?" Phoebe asks climbing down the porch steps towards Gerald.

"He will be. Arnold called on the way over. Nothing looks broken but he's pretty bruised," He pulls Phoebe to his side and kisses the top of her head. "He said he's sorry." Gerald adds looking at Helga again. "He said to go to the dance."

"Of course he did." Helga mutters. "Take me to the hospital." She orders Gerald.

"Helga..." He hesitates. "Arnold said to go. He may not want anyone there, right now."

"Do it. We missed dinner but the dance doesn't start for half an hour still. You guys can take me to the hospital and still make the dance." Gerald still isn't looking convinced. "How long have you been friends with him?" She demands.

"13 years." He says steadily.

"Exactly. So you know better than anyone that Arnold is incapable of asking for help. And you know how much he worries about his grandparents. His grandmother is probably completely confused about what's happening and Arnold's going to be trying to take care of everything on his own.

"I'm going to that hospital, Geraldo. So save me the bus fare and get in the car."

For a long moment Gerald just looks at her and then nods. "If he needs anything, you call me girl. Got it?"

o0o

Helga is out of the car the second it stops, promising to call them with any updates. She descends on the front desk to find Arnold and his family. "Excuse me," Helga begins trying to be polite.

"Are you here for that kid who was driving drunk?" The nurse interrupts giving Helga and her homecoming dress an unimpressed look.

"No, I am not." Helga says between gritted teeth. "I'm here to visit my friend's grandfather. He came in by ambulance less than two hours ago. "His name is Phil – "

"Helga?" She whirls around to find Arnold holding a stack of forms, dressed in a suit. "What are you doing here? I told Gerald to take you to the dance."

"Dance, schmance." Hegla says with a shrug. "I wanted to be here."

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Don't make me put you in the hospital too, football head."

He grins and turns to the nurse. "Here are all of the forms and I'm his medical power of attorney until he comes around. Can we go see him?"

The nurse nods and buzzes them through the door giving Helga a very different look then she had five minutes ago. It takes all of Helga's will power not to snarl at her.

"What happened?" She asks as the doors close behind them.

"He was in the kitchen trying to get grandma to come into the entrance hall so we could take pictures. She thought it was World War II and he tripped over the 'defensive line' she'd built out of the sugar bags."

"Gerald said nothing was broken." Helga says slipping her hand into his as rooms slide by.

"Thank God." Arnold replies in a tired voice. "He hit his head so they did a cat scan but he should be okay."

They reach grandpa's room just as a doctor walks in. "I'm sorry I need to speak to his medical power of attorney?" He says looking towards grandma.

"That's me." Arnold says offering the doctor his hand. "I'm Arnold." The doctor gives him a look. "I'm his power of attorney." Arnold confirms. "Special circumstances. My grandmother has dementia and I'll be 18 in less than a year. I'm his only other living relative. How is he?"

"I'm Dr. Maldrow." The doctor says taking Arnold's offered hand. "The cat scan came back fine. We'll keep him overnight to be sure, but he should be able to go home tomorrow afternoon. He'll be pretty sore but a week or two of taking it easy and he'll be good as new. Do you have any questions for me?"

"Yes," Arnold says looking at his grandfather's still form. "Is he going to wake up soon?"

"Within the next hour, I should think." Dr. Maldrow assures him looking at the chart. "The sedative was just for pain. Anything else?"

"Would it be possible to set a cot up in here? There's no way I'm going to convince my grandmother to come home tonight."

"Of course. I'll ask one of the nurses to bring one in. If you need anything press the button for a nurse. I'm on call tonight should anything happen."

"Thank you." Arnold says politely before turning back to his grandparents. His grandmother is hunched next to his grandfather's bed murmuring reassurances. Helga catches something about pushing the Germans back as she pushes Arnold into a chair at the beside. Then, they wait.

o0o

The doctor is only gone for ten minutes or so before grandpa wakes up. Arnold is at his side immediately as his grandmother falls back looking a little confused. "Shortman?" Grandpa sounds confused himself and Helga moves back to lean against the wall feeling like an intruder. "What's going on?"

"You fell, grandpa." Arnold tells him calmly. "In the kitchen. Grandma had the sugar bags on the floor and you tripped, remember?"

"Gertie, you and your blasted war. Where is she?" He demands sounding genuinely worried for the first time. Arnold shifts to the side as she stands reaching for him.

"Oh, Slim." She says holding his hand tightly. "I'm sorry. The Germans were coming up from behind so I put up the defensive lines. A war zone isn't a playground!" She scolds. "You've gotta pay attention!"

Helga raises her eyebrows when grandpa's only response is to chuckle and agree, "Right you are, Pookie. I'll be more careful from now on."

He looks at Arnold expectantly. "So, what's wrong with me? I feel fine. When can I go home?" He tries sitting up and then lays back with a wince.

"Yeah, I'm sure you feel fine." Arnold says dryly. "You should be able to go home sometime tomorrow afternoon. You're just a bit banged up. I'll go get the car in a bit so you won't have to wait tomorrow."

"Wait a second." Grampa's eyes narrow. "What are you doing here? You should be at the dance! I thought you were taking that girl who used to have one eyebrow. The one with the spunk."

"She's right here, grandpa." Helga, still leaning against the wall, lifts her hand in an embarrassed wave. "And her name's Helga."

"Hi." She pushes away from the wall a little. "I decided to come to the hospital with Arnold. There's always Winter Formal." Helga says with a shrug.

"Nonsense! I've got Pookie to keep me company. Go! You can come back tomorrow, jeesh!" Arnold hesitates. "You've gotta get the Packard anyways. I'm fine so get moving!"

"C'mon, Arnold." Helga says giving him a gentle tug. "We can call Phoebe to pick us up."

"Are you _sure_ you're okay, grandpa?" Arnold asks as if he hadn't heard Helga. "I can stay, it's not a problem."

"I'm fine, shortman." Grandpa assures him. "Don't worry about me. Go home, make sure Kakoshka hasn't brought the place down, and get some sleep." Arnold hugs him tightly and Helga sees just how worried he is.

"Have them call me if you or grandma need something, okay?" He kisses his grandmother on the cheek and she pats his shoulder with a smile.

"Sure thing." Grandpa agrees but Helga thinks it would take the apocalypse to make him call his grandson. "It was nice seeing you, Helga. You look very nice."

"Oh. Thank you." She says feeling even more embarrassed. "It was nice to see you too – " She fumbles.

"Just call me Phil. Or grandpa." He says with a wave of his hand. "God knows that's how most of you kids know me. Now take Arnold and get outta here. Don't you know I need my rest?" He waves them off laughing.

"Well, if he's making bad jokes he can't be too hurt." Arnold says as they make their way out of the hospital.

"I'll call Pheebs." Helga says pulling her phone out. "Her and Geraldo can come get us."

o0o

Gerald offers to drive her home at least six times with Helga's responses becoming increasingly insulting before Arnold steps in. "It's fine. I'll take her home when she's ready to go." He looks at Phoebe and Gerald. "Thanks guys, I'm glad you still made it to the dance."

"No problem, man." Gerald assures him reaching a hand out for their secret shake. "You guys need anything, just call."

"We're most happy we were able to assist, Arnold." Phoebe adds. She looks like she had a blast at the dance and Helga is glad. She also looks a bit disheveled and Helga makes a note for some good natured teasing in the near future.

"I'll call you sometime tomorrow, Pheebs." Helga says. "Geraldo, thanks for the ride. Make sure you get Phoebe home in one piece." Gerald just grins at her and Helga reminds herself this is not the time to start threatening anyone. "Let's go inside, football head. I'm sure some of the boarders are waiting to hear about grandpa."

o0o

As it turns out most of the boarding house is waiting for them in the kitchen. Arnold has barely shut the door when people come pouring into the hallway. They're asking a thousand questions at once and Arnold looks like a deer in the headlights so Helga takes over.

"Listen up!" She yells giving an ear splitting whistle. Everyone looks at her. "Grandpa's fine." A cheer goes up amongst the boarders. "He'll be home tomorrow and you are _all_ going to let him rest and help out around here, got it?" It always gives her a kick to see adults listening to her like they've forgotten she's not one of them.

Slowly but surely the borders begin to trickle back to their own rooms occasionally stopping to ask Arnold a question or two. It's nearly one in the morning before they're all gone and Arnold retreats to the kitchen.

"You okay, football head?" Helga asks reverting to insults because she's unsure of how else to proceed. She's leaning against the counter as he sits at the table. Helga's directly in his line of sight but she's pretty sure Arnold is staring right through her.

She wants so badly to go to him and offer some sort of comfort but she doesn't know how. Loving Arnold is second nature but expressing that love like a normal human being is still so beyond her. "Hello, Earth to football head? I'm _talking _to you." Helga waves her hand a bit and Arnold blinks at her.

"Sorry." He says with a sheepish grin. "I was just thinking. What did you say?"

"Don't hurt yourself doofus." Now that he's looking at her she's having trouble repeating her question.

"Helga?" He's starting to look concerned so Helga forces the words back out of her mouth.

"I asked if you were okay." She mutters.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." Arnold lies cheerfully. She is neither fooled nor impressed. "I'm sorry you missed the dance, though." Helga has always loved Arnold's selflessness (she did an entire book of poems about it in middle school) but this is going too far.

"It was just a stupid dance, football head. And you're full of shit." Arnold stares at her. "You are _not _okay. And that's – fine or whatever – but don't lie to me. Christ."

"Helga, I'm fine, really." Arnold protests. Helga just gives him a look.

"You're full of shit." She repeats. "Your grandfather is in the hospital because your grandmother thought World War II was happening in your kitchen. They're getting old." Helga adds in a quiet voice. "And you're going to have to deal with it sooner or later, football head."

"I _am_ dealing with it!" He yells. Helga raises her eyebrows and Arnold flushes. "I'm sorry." He says quietly looking around to make sure the boarders aren't still lurking. He loosens his tie. "Do you want to go upstairs?"

"Whatever floats your boat, football head." Helga tells him dryly but she slips her hands into his as they climb the stairs.

o0o

Helga has been in Arnold's room before of course. Arnold only knows about two of those times though and some part of her still feels like an intruder here.

Arnold puts his suit coat back in the closet and after so many years of watching him, Helga knows he's doing it for the calming comforts of ritual. The implication, false but there, that this world is an orderly one. That things might be forced to make sense.

"I'm sorry." He says again looking embarrassed. "I didn't mean to yell at you." Arnold sits on the edge of his bed.

Helga doesn't have the words to help so instead she sits down on the bed next to him. Arnold puts his head in his hands and after a minute she lays her hand on his knee. Helga remembers Arnold, years ago, telling her that he loved looking at the night sky. "Do you wanna go up on the roof?" She asks.

He doesn't answer but instead grabs her hand, standing up and pulling Helga with him. Helga slips her heels off and follows him up to the roof.

Just as she expected, he's looking at the stars. Arnold looks 'round as she pulls herself through the window and then looks back up. "I'm really sorry for yelling at you." He apologizes for a third time.

"It's _fine_, Arnold." She tells him reigning the insults in with a surprising amount of ease. "You're worried about your grandparents. It happens."

"I don't remember them." Arnold tells her, still looking up at those distant stars. "My parents." He adds as if there was ever any doubt about who he meant. "I love them. And I wish they were here. But I don't remember them. And I think that means I can't really miss them.

"I thought that was loss, grief even. I thought I knew what dead parents felt like." Helga pushes her body against Arnold's so that they are touching; shoulders, elbows, wrists, thighs, knees, calves. She doesn't have the right words and he has too many all desperate for escape. So, she tells him she's there the only way she can – each point of contact a tiny promise.

"I was wrong," Arnold says, finally looking away from the stars. He looks out at the city and Helga's chest _burns_ with ache because she doesn't know how to help. "_They're_ my parents." He tells her in a trembling voice. "They've loved me, and helped me, and raised me. And I'll be lucky if they're both alive to see me graduate college. I could be all alone in the world before I even _get_ to college. And it never really hit me until today when I saw grandpa lying on the kitchen floor and thought that was it."

"You're never going to be alone, Arnold." Helga promises finally finding something she thinks she knows how to fix. "Not with Gerald and me around. Not with most of our grade around, if we're honest."

"I'm being stupid." Arnold says dismissively. "Grandpa's going to be fine, he'll be home tomorrow. And this is the only time anything like this has happened. We'll just need to be more careful."

"Hey." Helga tilts Arnold's head towards her's. "Look at me, football head." She says, trying to make the name sound friendlier than it ever has before. "None of this sound stupid to me. I understand if you want to put on a brave face for your grandparents and the boarders. But it's just me. You don't have to pretend."

"Just you," Arnold echos.

Minutes tick by silently. "What if they die?" Arnold eventually asks, _finally_ voicing the fear that has been building in the air all night.

"Then we'll be here." Helga promises in a thankfully steady voice.

o0o

It starts with a hug.

When they finally go back inside, Arnold still looks so scared and unhappy that Helga hugs him before she can let herself worry about it. She honestly means it as a gesture of comfort.

She's not all that upset when it becomes something more.

After he kisses her for a few minutes she pulls away long enough to tell him she wants to change. It takes an amazing effort not to laugh when Arnold panics and tells her he isn't ready to have sex. "Neither am I, _Arnaldo_. I just want to get out of this damn dress." Neither of them needs to say it but her parents will never notice if she stays out tonight.

They realize at nearly the same time that all Helga brought with her was her phone and her purse. "It's fine." Arnold assures her. "You can borrow something." He rummages in the closet and dresser until he finds something that will fit her. He takes own pajamas and goes to the bathroom to change, leaving her in his room.

Helga slides out of her dress and slowly pulls the clothes on. The plaid shirt is old and worn making it as soft as any night shirt. She says a silent word of thanks that Arnold is skinny as she knots the pajama pants that still hang low on her hips.

A knock on the door startles her and then she realizes it's only Arnold. "Come in." She says quietly.

"Hey," Arnold says with a small smile. "Sorry I don't have any sleep shirts. I don't sleep in one." And indeed he's shirtless wearing just his plaid pajama pants.

"I _guess_ I can forgive you, football head." Helga says teasingly.

They stare at each other for a moment, awkward but happy. Finally Helga, from the seat on the bed she's taken, holds out her hand. Arnold takes it and they spend a moment frozen like that. Helga almost laughs when she realizes that, out of pure habit, she's writing poetry in her head about the beauty of the moment.

She wonders what it will be like to actually _write_ that poetry. Helga is sure it's going to be some of her best work. Then, Arnold leans his head down and kisses her and all thought disappears.

Helga leans back naturally and Arnold's body follows her as the bed rises to meet her back. One of them is making a soft, breathy, moan in the back of their throats but she's honestly not sure who. She threads her fingers through his hair and his hand slips under her shirt.

As Arnold ghosts across her ribs with soft touches Helga begins to kiss his throat. She grazes her tongue against the hallow of his throat and this time the moan is definitely Arnold's. The rush she gets from knowing _she_ was the one to elicit that moan drives her hips up to meet his. For a too brief moment she feels him against her hip. That he has _that_ reaction to her makes Helga give a moan of her own.

She doesn't realize Arnold has been keeping his lower body carefully away from hers until he stops.

It's an experience she's never encountered before and at once it feels completely overwhelming and totally natural. She pushes her hips up to his, over and over, cursing the layers of fabric between them. Arnold's finger's are moving up her chest and she gasps when his thumb grazes her nipple. Helga's hands clench in his hair and the desperate sound he gives near her ear makes her ache with want.

Her breath is coming in desperate pants when Arnold pulls back. "I want this." He says lying on the bed next to her. "But I want it to be about us. Not about how scared I am, or my grandpa, or the boarding house. Us."

"I – " It's insane how she can grind her hips into his but now, when it really counts, words, her true strength, are escaping her. She _lives_ for words for cripe's sake! She has 30-odd notebooks at home that are _filled _with words. "I want that too." Helga says eventually. Arnold grins and puts a hand on her hips, pulling her close.

"I was hoping you would." He whispers clicking some remote on the bedside table and pulling the covers over them. The lights go out and together, in a darkness that feels both familiar and comforting, they fall asleep.


End file.
